John
by MagpieDreamer
Summary: He never thought he'd hate the sound of his own name quite so much. Post 'Conversion' ramble.


**John**

AN: This is a little post-ep ramble I went on after seeing 'Conversion'. It's s tream of consciousness from John's point of view, and may be a little jerky and disointed because I wrote it across three very late nights. However, this is essentially an attempt to completely capture John's tone of voice, his mannerisms, and properly get inside his head after the whole kiss incident. Let me know if I got it right!

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

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_Shed off and peal,  
I'm in no shape or form,  
You're just a reject coming down for more,  
When two are receiven,  
You know I could be there,  
Soon you'll be laughing,  
Soon you'll be laughing my way.  
-Daniel Powter 'Lost on the Stoop'_

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I never thought I'd hate the sound of my own name.

But I do.

That's the problem. The real problem. Every time she says it, that's all I can think of; that moment – that _one_ moment – when I could have done… something nasty. Really nasty. I mean, it was _right_ there, that feeling, that gut instinct, that… I dunno. It was like total knowledge or something. I've never had a moment where I was so sure. I knew. I knew what I wanted, I knew I could get it and I knew that I was going to.

She knew, too.

Teyla can handle herself. She's a smart, strong women. Powerful and self assured, most of the time. When she's in her element. There are only a few situations where she could be thrown out of her groove enough to not know what's going on. That, despite what I was trying to pull, was not one of those situations. She knew _exactly _what was going on. She just couldn't do anything about it.

Every time she says her name, I can remember that taste. I could _taste_ her. I could taste fear. Messed up, I know, but I swear I could taste it. When you get scared, you release pheromones, and dogs can smell them. So I guess it's possible. And whatever was going on with my DNA at the time, there was still enough John Sheppard left to yank me the hell out of there before I did something stupid. Like force her any further. Because I wanted to. For that split second, I wanted it more than I have ever wanted anything, and that's what freaks the hell out of me.

I _don't_ want Teyla. I don't. Not like that. Don't get me wrong; she's gorgeous. She is. She's the strangest woman I have ever met and she's also the most beautiful, (with the possible exception of Miss Chessler, my eighth grade teacher, but she was _fine_), but crossing that line is really not something I'm prepared to do. Would it be fantastic? Quite possibly, and normally I'm something of a gambler on those things. But the possibility of it crashing out and screwing up the dynamics of the team, let alone our friendship, is too much of a risk to be worth it. You know what I mean, right? I reckon most people have been there. Great girl, great setting, and occasionally you catch a glimpse of what might just be desire sitting behind those eyes, and occasionally you wonder if you could take it any further. Occasionally you're alone together. Occasionally you like to slip inside her personal space, just to see, just to feel, how she reacts. Occasionally, she doesn't seem to mind.

I remember telling Elizabeth to kill me. You know why I did that?

Freaked as hell, I was. I kept thinking about Teyla. I kept… it just went over and over in my head, those few moments, those… I liked them. I liked that she was scared. I liked how much power I had. I _liked_ what I wanted to do to her.

So I knew I was beyond saving.

It was intense. Nothing I've ever felt has ever been that vivid. It's like the opposite of being drunk. The _extreme_ opposite. Closer to being on acid, really (not that I've ever been on acid...) Except that I didn't feel much, physically. Like being cocooned inside my body. You could have hit me with a truck I probably wouldn't have felt it, especially near the end. Every sense, every desire, every thought and reflex got stuck together. I thought about something, and my body went for it. It was the best high in the world. It was the darkest place I've ever been. It was creepy as hell. And I spent most of it feeling one hell of a lot of sympathy for Ford.

She has this grin. I'm not kidding. Teyla can grin like nothing on Earth (which isn't hard, considering we're not on Earth, but you take my point). The term 'ear to ear' never applied to anyone more. It makes her look like a little kid (when you can get it out of her, of course.) There's something vaguely psychological going on there; something about the way her childhood got yanked out from under her so fast, makes me think she never quite let go. There's still a tiny bit of childhood stuck in her head. It's why she's so traumatised. It's why she grins like an eight year old on sugar.

It could also be why she's playing jumping-jack on my bed.

I think it was Ronan who asked how high she could jump. Can you touch that cobweb? The light fitting? The ceiling?

I'm trying not to pay too much attention. I have a song to write. What rhymes with Caldwell?

I didn't think the guys would be too happy hanging in my room so soon. But they're here. Rodney is hurling insults at Ronan through his energy bars, while Ronan and Teyla attempt to destroy my bed like it personally wronged them in some way.

I strum on my guitar. Okay, I admit, I only remember three chords and I'm fairly sure one of them is wrong, but the guitar and me are old buddies. It harks back to high school and college and… you know. It's an ego thing. Still, I can make those three chords sound really good. Especially in a song about how annoying certain members of the base personnel are. Everybody I know has a song. There are several about Rodney. One or two about Elizabeth. A few about how Baits should leave my friends alone, and one about the guy in the cafeteria who always gets the last turkey sandwich…

I never wrote anything about Teyla before. Mostly my musical talents don't stretch to cover whatever that woman means to me. But it's not really about Teyla. It's _for_ her. Mostly it's a lengthy and slightly off-key apology.

She'll never hear it… but it's still very therapeutic. It focuses the mind, you know? I'd forgotten how much doing this helps me think, work stuff through. By the time I'm finished, I'll know just what I want to say to her. Then I guess I can make things okay, or start to. I have to say something, right? I can't just let it hang there, between us, like this massive great black hole that no one can see but we both know is right there waiting for one or both of us to trip and fall straight into. Right?

Jesus, it's awkward though. It'd be a hell of a lot of help if I knew what she thought about the whole mess. I'm _way_ too used to getting her opinions on stuff. I mean, the woman was born on another planet. I don't even know what relationships_ mean_ on Athos. Do they have marriage? Family units? Is being gay a big thing to them or is it just as normal as being straight? Is it even acceptable for adults to get into serious relationships? Is sex just a biological function for them or is it about love? How many dates do you have to get an Athosian girl on before she sleeps with you? What's their acceptable age of consent? Are clothes a necessity or is nudity taboo? Are the guys meant to do all the work or are the women meant to come onto the men?

You see how out of my depth I am here?

I noticed, the first few months after we met, Teyla had a problem with people on the base touching her. Seriously. She didn't like people even just brushing her arm accidentally or something. The Athosians aren't really a touchy feely people, I'll admit. They do the whole head-to-head thing, but that's about it. Still, I mean, after about four months, she didn't seem to mind any more. Which is nice; but is it a personal thing or is it cultural? You don't let people you don't know make physical contact with you? That could happen, I guess, but, the way Teyla grew up, with the Wraith and all, maybe it's some twisted side affect of having all her family getting killed so young.

So yeah, I'm screwed if I know what to do. Still, I guess I can try. I _have_ to try.

If only so I can stop hating the sound of my own name.


End file.
